


Killer Klowns From Kanada

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-15
Updated: 1999-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:56:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Killer Klowns From Kanada

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Killer  
Klowns From Kanada

 

Thanks to Celeste, Fiona, Mary and Dale for their generous  
help! As for the title -- well, if it makes all of you happy ...

# KILLER KLOWNS FROM KANADA
    
    
    by Katrina Bowen
    
    "A clown is trying to kill me, Ray."  Ben looked anxiously around the
    corner of the booth toward the door of the cafe.
    
    Ray blinked.  Normally, Fraser treated people trying to murder him with
    the utmost respect, and to hear the Mountie referring to someone as a
    clown was a bit disconcerting.  All the same ... "Just calm down and
    tell me what happened."  He reached down and gave Dief half of his sandwich;
    Fraser didn't even seem to register it, let alone give both of his friends
    a lecture on the proper diet of wolves.  Now Ray was really worried.
    
    Ben took a deep breath.  "After I got off duty at the consulate, I went
    back to my apartment.  I opened the door and went to the window.  When
    I opened the shade, there was someone waiting on the fire escape." He
    pulled something wrapped in a handkerchief out of his pocket and laid
    it on the table in front of Ray.  "Then he threw a knife at me."
    
    "Jesus."  Ray carefully unwrapped the knife and looked at it, making
    sure he didn't touch it.  He looked up.   "What did you do, Benny?"
    
    "Obviously, I ducked,"  he said in a brittle voice.  Before Ray could
    answer, Ben shook his head and rubbed his eyes.  "I'm sorry, Ray.  I
    shouldn't take this out on you.  It's just so -- surreal."
    
    "It's okay.  Don't worry about it.  I mean, you've had plenty of people
    trying to kill you, right?  You should be used to it by now."
    
    "Not like this, Ray."  Ben looked to the doorway again.  "This is rather
    more -- peculiar than the other incidents."
    
    "Look, let's start with the basics.  Can you give me a description of
    this guy?"
    
    "Oh, yes.  But you won't believe me," Ben said a little hopelessly. 
    
    "Of course I'll believe you."
    
    "Even if you do believe me, you won't like it."  He was staring at his
    water glass.
    
    "Benny, just tell me what he looked like."  Ray took out a small notebook.
    "Did he have any distinguishing features?"
    
    Ben sighed heavily and looked Ray in the eye.  "More or less what you
    would expect.  He had a white face and a big red mouth.  He had blue,
    fuzzy hair -- oh, and a large, red, round nose."
    
    Ray concentrated on taking deep, even breaths.  When he trusted himself
    to speak he said, "Let me get this straight.  When you said some clown
    was trying to kill you --"
    
    "Actually, Ray, I said *a* clown was trying to kill me."
    
    "So you don't mean clown as an insult."
    
    "No.  I mean a particular, specific clown is trying to kill me."
    
    This time Ray looked to the doorway.  He regretfully concluded that there
    was no way to avoid dealing with this.
    
    "You think I'm making this up, don't you, Ray?"  Ben looked depressed
    and even more hopeless.  He rose slightly, as if preparing to leave.
    Ray reached out quickly to grab his wrist.
    
    "I gotta admit, Benny, my life would be a lot easier if I didn't believe
    you. But I do."  As Ben sat down slowly, Ray continued.  "First of all
    -- I mean, you're my friend, so I can tell you this, no offense meant
    -- you are the absolutely worst liar I've ever met.  You obviously *believe*
    a clown is trying to kill you, so I'll accept that's what you saw." 
    He released Ben's wrist and took a drink of coffee.  "Secondly, if you
    were going to make something up, it'd have igloos or polar bears or something,"
    he added casually.
    
    "Well, Ray, that's not necessarily true."  Seeing Ray's skeptical expression,
    Ben went on defensively.  "If I were to choose to lie, I think I'd be
    -- well, not *good*, perhaps, but I'm sure I could be quite convincing."
    
    "Do you remember when you were trying to get Thatcher away from that
    dinner with her boss?  Do you remember what you came up with?"  Ray finally
    let himself smile -- Fraser was starting to relax.
    
    "That was on the spur of the moment.  Given enough time, I could do much
    better, I'm sure."
    
    "Yeah, I'd hope so.  Anything would be better than 'Your car is on fire
    and the other cars feel threatened.'  Face it, Benny -- you just don't
    have the knack."  He stood and gave the remainder of his sandwich to
    Dief.  "Come on -- let's go down to the precinct and see what we can
    find out." 
    
    "All right."  Ben rose to follow.  "But the next time Diefenbaker needs
    to be carried somewhere, you're going to be the one to do it.  Do you
    have any idea how much weight he's gained since coming to Chicago?"
    
    "Ah, he's just big-boned ..."
    
    ****************************************************************************
    *****
    
    For the first time all week, Elaine was glad she had pulled the night
    shift. All right, she knew it was serious and all, and she was by no
    means happy to hear that someone was trying to kill Ben.  Still, any
    chance to see him was something to be seized on.  Throw in an opportunity
    to save his live ... She grinned as the information she had been waiting
    for started printing out.  Tearing off the sheets, she walked quickly
    over to Vecchio's desk.  "I think I found something."
    
    Ben and Ray looked up from the piles of folders they were attempting
    to sort through.  They both stood up -- Ray in order to stretch, and
    Ben out of courtesy.  "Good, because we're getting nowhere here.  I had
    no idea there were so many cases of homicidal Bozos.  Do you think there's
    something in the makeup that drives clowns insane?  I mean, they're almost
    worse than postal workers."
    
    "Shut up, Ray," Elaine said conversationally.
    
    "Okay."  He sat back down.
    
    "What do you have, Elaine?"  Ben took the papers she offered him. 
    
    "Two things.  First of all, would you believe there's a clown convention
    in town?  It was hard getting hold of someone this late, but I finally
    found someone who can help us."
    
    "Great!"  Ray stood back up.  "Come on, Benny.  Let's go check it out."
    
    "You can save yourself the trip, Vecchio.  If we fax them a description,
    they can check it against their records."  Ben and Ray looked at each
    other.  Before either could ask her, she explained.  "It turns out that
    clowns are pretty possessive about their makeup, so they all have to
    register their designs.  The woman I talked to -- who, incidentally,
    introduced herself as Bubbles -- said that she can forward our clown's
    description to the central registry."
    
    "Would it help if I drew a picture?"  Ben was already starting to sketch;
    his drawing was finished in about a minute.
    
    "This is wonderful, Ben."
    
    "Why, thank you, Elaine.  Although I must admit that I'm not altogether
    satisfied with the width of the hair --"
    
    "Yeah, it's real nice.  But what's the second thing you were going to
    tell us?" Ray broke in impatiently.
    
    Elaine sobered.  "This isn't going to make either of you any happier,
    I'm afraid.  On a hunch, I checked for any similar cases.  There have
    been four Mounties killed in the past two months -- one in Montreal,
    the others in Ontario.  None of the cases have been solved.  Now, in
    one of the Ontario cases, the main suspect is the victim's brother, so
    I think we can eliminate that one.  However, a man across the street
    in the Montreal murder reported seeing a clown leaving the building.
    He was pretty drunk, though, so the Canadian authorities dismissed his
    statement."
    
    Ray blew out his breath softly and looked at Fraser.  "Congratulations,
    Benny.  You're not insane.  Could you fax that drawing, Elaine?"
    
    "Sure."  She smiled and patted Ben on the shoulder.  "I'm not about to
    let anything happen to my favorite Mountie."
    
    "Come on, Elaine.  He's the *only* Mountie you know."
    
    "All the more reason to take care of him."  She walked back to her computer.
    
    ****************************************************************************
    *****
    
    "Hey."  Ray gently shook Ben's shoulder to wake him.  As his friend straightened
    up and rubbed at his eyes, Ray sat down across from him. Dief also woke
    up, and sat so he could watch both men's lips.  "Elaine got the information
    she was after.  The makeup is registered to a --" he looked down at the
    printout "-- Reme Vavasour.  Originally French Canadian, but he'd been
    working in the States for the past ten years.  He disappeared from the
    circus he was with about four months ago, and told a friend that a family
    member was dying in Canada."
    
    "Vavasour?"  Ben frowned.  "I know that name ..."  He closed his eyes,
    trying to remember.  "It was in my father's journals.  But the first
    name wasn't Reme.  I think it was -- Claud?  Yes, I'm sure it was Claud."
    
    "Great.  Who's Claud?"
    
    "Claud Vavasour was part of a drug smuggling ring in the Territories.
    My father was in the detail that broke it up.  If I recall correctly,
    Vavasour was shot during the raid, and lapsed into a coma."  Ben paused.
    "I wouldn't be at all surprised if all the dead Mounties were somehow
    involved in the raid. And because my father is already dead, Reme had
    decided to kill me instead."
    
    "Oh, this is wonderful."  Ray rested his head in his hands.  "We've got
    a crazy clown with revenge on his tiny little mind."  He looked up. 
    "Why in God's name would he go around killing people while he's wearing
    his makeup?  Even if he's nuts, he's gotta know that it'd only make him
    easier to find."
    
    Ben shrugged.  "Possibly he sees himself as some sort of -- agent of
    retribution?"
    
    "What?  The Red Nose of Reckoning?"
    
    "That's not at all funny, Ray."  But Ben was smiling as he said it. 
    He looked at his watch.  "Oh dear.  I'm going to be late for work.  Will
    you keep me informed?"  He started to leave.
    
    "Wait a minute!"  Ray ran after him.  "You've been sitting up all night
    trying to find out why a clown is trying to kill you, and you're honestly
    thinking of going to work?"
    
    "Ray, I go on duty in an hour.  What am I supposed to tell Inspector
    Thatcher?"
    
    "Tell her the truth.  Tell her a crazed Quebecois clown is going to murder
    you."
    
    Ben stared at Ray in disbelief.  "She'd never believe me.  She'd think
    I was lying."
    
    "Sometimes, Benny, the truth is the best lie of all."  Seeing Ben's stubborn
    expression, Ray sighed and threw up his hands.  "Fine.  Go to work. 
    But I'm coming with you."
    
    ****************************************************************************
    *****
    
    "Constable, I need you to deliver some papers for me --"  Inspector Margaret
    Thatcher jumped as she saw Ray Vecchio sitting in the corner chair, reading
    a newspaper.  "What are you doing here?" she demanded in surprise.
    
    "Ah, sir, Detective Vecchio is here to -- that is, he --" Ben floundered
    for a few moments, and Ray broke in smoothly.
    
    "Seeing as how the constable is always spending *his* free time around
    the precinct, I thought I'd show him how it feels."
    
    Meg didn't understand the look they exchanged (raised eyebrows on Fraser's
    part, a beatific smile on Vecchio's), but she decided it was something
    she didn't want to ask about.  She continued, "There are some work permits
    that need to be delivered to the Duvalier - Furley Circus. Please do
    it as soon as possible."  She turned to leave, but stopped as Ray quickly
    stepped in front of her.
    
    "Oh, that really isn't a good idea at all, Inspector.  Isn't there someone
    else who could do it?"
    
    This time it was Meg who raised her eyebrows.  "Unfortunately, Detective,
    everyone else is busy, and the documents must be delivered by the end
    of the day.  If you would, Constable?"
    
    "Of course, sir."
    
    "Wait a minute!"  Meg turned back in irritation.  "Look, Fraser didn't
    want me to tell you this --"
    
    "Ray, I don't think --"
    
    "-- but a clown is trying to kill him.  So he shouldn't go anywhere near
    a circus."
    
    "I ... see."  Meg turned to Ben.  "May I see you in the hallway for a
    moment, Constable Fraser?"  With a helpless shrug at Ray, Ben followed
    her into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind him.  Meg turned
    to him and hissed, "See?  *This* is what happens when you hang around
    with Americans!  He's obviously lost his mind."
    
    "Oh, no.  You see, it's really -- I mean, there *is* actually ..." Ben
    gave up. "He means well, sir."
    
    "Just deliver those documents, Constable."  She walked away.  Ben sighed
    and went back into his office.
    
    "Well?  What did she say?" Ray demanded.
    
    "Let's just say that we're going to the circus."
    
    ****************************************************************************
    *****
    
    "Benny ... Benny?  Benny!"  Ray took Fraser's arm and firmly steered
    him away from the group of giggling aerialists who had cornered him.
    "Excuse us, ladies."  Shaking his head, he added more confidentially,
    "You know, a moving target is much harder to hit.  Didn't they teach
    you anything in Mountie School?"
    
    "I'm sorry, Ray.  It's just that they were so -- insistant.  Especially
    the one in the, ahhh --" Ben gestured vaguely at his torso.
    
    "The feathers, yeah.  I could tell.  Now, there's no reason to believe
    that Vavasour is with this particular circus.  I've called out an APB
    on him, so if we're lucky he'll be laying low.  Hey -- where's Dief?"
    
    "Oh, he's having a staring contest with one of the tigers.  He'll be
    along when he gets bored."
    
    "Fine.  Let's just drop off those papers and get out of here.  The ringmaster
    said the manager's trailer is over past those tents."  They walked into
    the shadowed pathway between the two tents.
    
    "All right."  Ray and Ben both froze at the voice behind them.  "Put
    up your hands and turn around slowly."
    
    "You know, I suppose we really shouldn't be surprised,"  Ben said calmly.
    
    "No.  But I really hope that's one of those guns that shoots out a flag
    that says 'BANG!'  instead of bullets."
    
    "Somehow, Ray, I doubt it."
    
    "Both of you, shut up!"  Vavasour, still in his clown makeup, was waving
    the gun between them.
    
    Ben took a half step in front of Ray.  "You know, Reme, it isn't too
    late to end this peacefully."
    
    Ray stepped in front of Ben.  "Right.  So just give me the gun, and we
    can talk about this, okay?"
    
    "Excuse me, Ray."  Ben stepped in front of Ray again.
    
    "Hey!"  Ray elbowed Ben in the side and stepped in front of him.  "You're
    the one he really wants dead.  Stay back there, willya?"
    
    "Actually, Ray, that's why I think I should be in front."
    
    "What, you really believe he's gonna shoot you, and then just leave me
    standing here?"
    
    "That's not the *point*, Ray --"
    
    "Will you two be QUIET?" Vavasour shouted.  He turned sharply as he heard
    a menacing growl behind him.   Ben reached out and easily twisted the
    gun away.  Vavasour turned around, speechless, as Ray handcuffed him
    .  Diefenbaker walked up, the remains of a caramel apple stuck to his
    whiskers.
    
    "No, Ray, I'm afraid this is a real gun."
    
    "Yeah, I kind of thought so.  Well, it's about time you showed up, Dief,"
    he said to the wolf, who ignored him.  "And where do you think *you're*
    going?" he called after Ben.
    
    "To drop off these papers.  The inspector was quite firm on that point.
    I'll be back in a minute, Ray."
    
    Ray sighed.  He said to Vavasour, "You know, sometimes Mounties are more
    trouble than they're worth.  You have the right to remain silent ..."
    
    The End
    
     ********************
    I like comments.  Comments make me happy.  Comments bring meaning to
    my sorry little life.  If you all want any more stories, you *will* give
    me comments.  Do we understand each other?  Good. -- kb
    
    Katrina Bowen --
    
    "Super heroes and evil twins go together like peanut butter and -- and
    evil peanut butter!"  _Earthworm Jim_
    


End file.
